


The Lord and The Thief

by Hobgoblin51



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobgoblin51/pseuds/Hobgoblin51
Summary: An ongoing series of the growing romance and general adventures between Vette and her Sith Lord friend, Darth Karn. Some chapters will be based on moments in the game, some that I come up with myself. Not done in any particular order, but I do have ideas for stories about their future based after the events of the game.Aiming to have around 30 or so chapters or until I get bored. Honestly just thought that the Vette/Sith Warrior pairing was criminally underrated and decided to make few tales myself.This first chapter revolves around Vette's discovery that, if you come to the Dark Side, there are indeed cookies.





	1. Dark Side Cookies

“You’re kidding. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“On my House’s honour, it’s true.”

In the Fury’s mess hall, Vette and her newly acquired, “Best-Buddy, the Sith”, Karn Ukani were reading a datapad containing recipes. An ordinary enough activity to be expected in the ship’s canteen.

However, one recipe in particular had caught the blue-skinned Twi’lek attention. One, she was certain had been added to the list as some sort of joke, as strange as it was to picture Sith actually having a sense of humour.

But Karn had sworn, with a straight face and with extreme sincerity in his tone, that what she was seeing was the truth.

Frozen in awe, Vette was, for one of the few times in her life, was left speechless. After letting their discovery sink in, she finally spoke, with almost childlike wonder in her voice,

“They’re real. Sith Cookies are real.”

It had been a long-established joke. The old phrase, “Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies”, had been heard all across the galaxy. She’d recalled seeing Imperial recruitment posters on Nar Shadda graffitied with the phrase.

She had never, ever believed there actually were cookies.

Yet there it was. 

Right there on the datapad, the text, “Dark Side Cookies”, staring her in the face.

She looked to her friend, seeking an explanation. 

“Okay, questions. I have a lot of em.”

“Very well, where would you like to start?”, Karn asked, his tone full of amusement at his companion’s surprise.

“First, since when have Sith Lords held bakery in high regards?”, Vette asked, trying and failing not to chuckle at the sheer absurdity of her own question.

The very thought of Dark Lords with glowing red eyes and dark veins full of Force Corruption, in aprons happily preparing a tray of chocolate-chip treats, was about as hilarious and absurd as picturing a Hutt in a marathon. 

“It’s really not as insane as you might imagine”, the Pureblood causally replied.

Vette looked at him as if he just grew another head. 

“You’ve just told me that the Sith, the Sith who are rage-fuelled psychos who conqueror and destroy everywhere they go…er, no offense,”

“None taken”, Karn shrugged, seeming to have found it quite flattering.

“Also, when they aren’t ruling the galaxy with an iron fist, indulge in sugary treats. What about any of that sound normal to you!?”

The tall Sith chuckled.

“Alright then. The Sith, when they had split from the Jedi, indulged themselves in a life free from inhibitions or the restrictions of the old order. These took many different forms, most notably, embracing the power our emotions can give us and seeking a greater role in galactic politics than as mere guardians and advisors.”

Tapping a gloved finger on the recipe for the food in question, Karn continued,

“One of the more, minor deviations, was that certain Sith, now no longer bound by the strict regimen the Jedi expect their members to follow, was the creation of confectionary treats to appeal to heightened sense of pleasure.”

At that, Vette burst out in gut-busting laughter.

“Y-You’re really telling me, one of the first Sith Lords wrote down a recipe, because the Dark Side made him hungrier for tastier snacks?”

“Crudely put but, that is more or less what happened. Really, it was hardly unusual. Some Sith created new music pieces, some designed great buildings…”

“And some,” Vette interrupted, “Baked cookies.”

Vette straightened up and did her best serious, deep-voiced impression of a Sith Lord, “Fruit is a Lie, there is only Cookies”, giggling to herself at the end of her impression.

“Honestly, that probably explains Darth Wide-Load”, she mused, earning a subtle, but still visible glare from her Sith partner, to which she simply rolled her eyes and nodded.  
Karn had asked her to, at least not in the presence of Imperial officials or his master, to not make any weight jokes about his master. She agreed, despite how much she hated having to kiss up to jerks like Darth Baras.

Well, it wasn’t so much kissing up, as it was just avoiding being Force Choked via hologram for getting on a Sith’s nerves.

In truth, it was actually kind of nice of Karn to care enough about her that he didn’t want her getting herself killed over a few bad jokes.

“Any other questions?”, Karn asked, bringing her thoughts back to the recipe.

“Just one. Can we make some? Please!? PleasePleasePleasePlease Pleeeeaaaase?”, Vette begged. The chance to taste chocolate-chip treats excess-driven Sith Lords found tasty was too good to pass down.

“Well, we could, but if I show you how, you must never reveal the method to another living soul.”

“Awww, big bad Sith worried his baking skills will trash his rep as an agent of destruction?”, Vette playfully quipped.  
Karn fixed her a very stern look that caught her off guard, leaning close so that his yellow eyes bored into her, fixing her gaze on his very serious looking expression.

“What I am about to tell you is a Sith secret that has been known only by members of our order for over a thousand years. Even high-ranking Imperial commanders are unaware of this recipe.”

“If it was ever revealed that this recipe was given to a non-Sith, the Dark Council themselves would order our very slow, very painful and very public deaths as a warning for future generations against the dangers of delving too deep into Sith affairs.”

Silence filled the room, broken only by Vette’s gulping down a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“R-really?”

Karn’s expression held for a moment. Then it slowly faded into a smile, a low chuckle breaking the awkward silence he had imposed just moments ago.”

“Of course not. They’re just cookies.”

Vette sighed, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow in a huff. Though it was a light-tap and in all honesty, between the durasteel armour and his own bulk, she’d probably need a hammer to actually hurt him.

“Jerk! Ya nearly gave me a heart attack over a cookie!”

“Apologies, but it was too good to pass up”, Karn confessed, that irritating smugness still evident in his voice.

Vette found herself laughing too. 

The Dark Council killing people over cookies. They’re not THAT crazy, right?

Right?

“Well, there was that Zhorrid woman I heard some of the officers talking about”, she uncomfortably mused to herself.

“Come then. I don’t have any pressing orders from Lord Baras at the moment and I am quite peckish. Shall we get the ingredients ready?”

“Sweet!”, Vette cheered.

As she picked up the datapad and headed towards the supply cabinet, she glanced over her should at Karn gathering the various culinary utensils they would need, she smiled.

“If you had told me, when I was slaving away in the mines on Ryloth, that I’d be friends with a Sith Lord with a sense of humour and a sweet tooth, I’d have called you crazy”, she thought to herself.

Of course, actually living this experience was no less crazy, but it was a brand of bizarre she could certainly get used to.


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this Chapter, we get some insights into Vette's first impressions upon meeting Karn on Korriban. What was supposed to be a death sentence, might be the beginning of something strange and amazing.

“Okay, so, maybe the chirping wasn’t that popular? How about that Frog-Dog impression I mentioned earlier? Here, let me just clear my throat. Ribbi-AAAARGH!”

Vette groaned in pain from the shock delivered to her neck. Apparently, Jailer Nash was still unimpressed with her sense of humour. 

Or maybe he was just bored and wanted to pass the time by torturing his latest charge. He’d certainly proven to the young Twi’lek that he was a poor host.

“Give it a rest, will ya?”, Vette complained.

Seriously, I know “Hospitality” isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the Sith, but my neck is killing me.

“I’m getting my fill of fun while I still can, slave”, the surly warden spat, his voice laced with contempt.

Vette thought of letting the balding jailer know just how much she thought of his “fun”, but wisely decided against it. No matter how good it would feel to taunt the jerk, the satisfaction would be outweighed by the pain the damnable collar would deliver to her poor neck. 

She brushed her fingers along the scars caused by the brutal electric surges she’d been subjected to for the past four days. They were far from the first scars she’d received from slavers. But damn, did they sting.

She sighed.

This whole job was a mistake. The Imps were supposed to be bogged down by Klorr’slug infestations to notice us. The Temple was purged long before week got there.

Vette didn’t blame Taunt. She knew the red-skinned beauty and de facto leader of “The Old Gang”, would be beating herself up over taking the Korriban job. If she was still alive.

Vette didn’t want to entertain the idea that she didn’t make it out alive. She’d lost two sisters too many already. 

It wasn’t Taunt’s fault. They were desperate. 

Being pirate revolutionaries seeking to restore Twi’lek pride and get rich might sound romantic, but romantic notions doesn’t pay for fuel, weapons, ammunition, food or any of the other logistical nightmares of being professional thieves. 

Sith artefacts fetched a pretty price on the black market. But there was plenty of risk.

One, it’s in a temple guarded by squads of Imp troopers, infested with nasty wildlife and loaded with booby traps. 

Two, selling the thing was a problem in of itself. Sell it in Imp space? Good as dead, not an option. Sell it in Pub space? Even the least patriotic Pub would report you for carrying that, so, also not an option. That left only those the less…reputable areas of space. Whilst Vette was no stranger to these parts, she knew they were far from savoury. Gangsters, pirates, cultists and, of course, slavers. Not very pleasant types, but the only ones they could sell to. 

So, their only clients were criminals who were dangerous and crazy enough to want a Sith artefact. 

And of course, the third risk. The artefact itself.

Vette had heard her fair share of spacer’s tales of smugglers hauling Sith artefacts and going insane. Or being mutated into abominations. Or worse.

Essentially, smuggling a Sith artefact was like carrying a radioactive substance that kept whispering into your ear, telling you to kill all your friends.

All in all, it was a desperate job. But they needed the credits. And the tip they got seemed too good to pass up.

Vette’s thoughts returned to her current predicament. 

“Too good”, was right. 

She saw the gang make a run for it. They were tenacious, and if there was a way to evade the Imps, they’d have done it. 

But her? Four days in the slave pens. And the Sith never kept prisoners for good reasons. She’d heard the screaming from the cell blocks down the hall of the poor souls dragged, kicking and screaming, into the interrogation chambers to face the tender mercies of the Inquisitors. 

No one ever came back from those sessions.

“Lookin’ a little down-in-the-dumps, Little Bird?”, Nash asked, feigning concern. His delight in her dread all too evident.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be outta that cell soon. Turns out, your little grave robbing adventure caught the eye of some pretty important Darth. He’s sending his apprentice to deal with you.”

Vette didn’t want to give this son of a schutta the satisfaction of seeing her sacred, but the thought of being handed over to a Sith sent a chill down her spine.

The sound of the cell doors opening pulled her from her thoughts.

“Ah, as if on cue.”

Vette turned to see her new, “owner.” And if she was scared before, she was downright petrified now.”

Ho. Ly. Kark, he’s big.

The acolyte that walked into the slave pens was a Pureblood. His skin was a dark shade of crimson and he sported a pair of yellow eyes, burning with a glow akin to that of many a predatory cat she’d seen in jungles. He was bald, with a light shine coming off his scalp. His chin had two downward ridges, one on each side, as many of his kind did.

But most notable of the acolyte, was his size. 

The Sith was easily six feet tall, possibly seven, towering above Nash and herself easily. Her head just barely reached his chest. 

He was very muscular. His body sculpted into a weapon of war. The man looked like he could knock a Houk out with one good punch.

The acolyte looked like a demon that had just walked out of a nightmare.

And she was about the be made his property.

Whelp, this is it. End of the line.

No, now isn’t the time for defeatism. 

Sith or no Sith, Vette always found a way to escape. She just had to play it cool, bide her time.

If she was lucky, she might be able to make a break for it if the acolyte got killed by the many dangers on Korriban.

Though judging by the intimidating presence, the Pureblood emanated, it wasn’t very likely he’d be killed easily.

“Look who’s back”, Nash welcomed the towering newcomer. “Word is, you’re set to become Lord Baras’ new apprentice. Nice work, if you can get it.”

The Pureblood nodded, his expression stoic, neither welcoming nor unwelcoming.

“I’m told you’ll be relieving me of this Twi’lek. Fair warning, she’s a pain in the neck.”

“Ha!”, Vette scoffed. “Who’s a pain in the neck? I’m the one wearin’ a shock collar.”

“Heh, consider that a going away present, Twi’lek”, Nash retorted. “Look’s like you might be useful for something after all.”

The jailed jabbed a thumb towards the acolyte. “This bruiser’s taking you back to the tomb we caught you in.”

Oh, so that’s your game, huh?

Vette’s fear had been replaced with a smug sense of satisfaction. For all their haughty attitudes, turns out the Sith couldn’t figure out something a lowly Twi’lek thief could. That’s why they had kept her alive.

“None of you can figure out how to use the tomb statues, to open the forbidden cavern, huh?”, she boasted, satisfied that she got a chance to ridicule the brute that had been electrocuting her non-stop.

She turned to meet the face of the acolyte. 

“You got some kind of business in that secret Sith chamber, do ya?”

Vette monetarily admonished herself for letting her rush at outsmarting the Sith resulting in her taunting the crimson giant in front of her but kept her composure. 

You never let a predator think you’re scared, and that rule went double for Sith.

Then, finally, the acolyte spoke.

“Yes, and I’d appreciate your help.”

…Huh. That was…not what I was expecting.

For a towering mass of muscle, the Pureblood didn’t sound like a brute. His voice was carried weight, but it wasn’t gruff, like some brawler you’d find starting a fight in some Nar   
Shadda tavern. There was a tone of refinement. His speech precise and thought out, each word being made clear.

And surprisingly, he even sounded somewhat, cordial. She certainly wasn’t expecting him to be polite. Her initial fear of the acolyte had turned to confusion and intrigue.

Nash, evidently disapproving of the manners shown to his prisoner, responded to the acolyte, “Don’t botha being pleasant.”

Pffft, you wouldn’t know pleasant if it bit you in the butt, Hutt-lover.

A sinister grin appeared on Nash’s face as he handed the acolyte the control to the shock collar.

“’ere kid, take the shock controla. Use it enough, she’ll show you the backdoor to her motha’s house.”

Vette decided to speak up, before the acolyte got any ideas.

“I supposed I could play tomb tour guide. A lot of work went into cracking that nut. But I did it once, I can do it again.”

Vette folded her arms and leaned against the bars of her cell.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m officially on strike when it comes to domestic duties.”

Then, her heart began racing as the Pureblood smiled. 

Vette was certain she’d just given the giant a reason to try out the new toy Nash had handed him.

The acolyte chuckled, then responded, “I promise, I won’t require a maid.”

...Okay, there is something weird about this Sith.

Not only did he pass up a perfectly good excuse to torture her, but he actually seemed amused by her bravado. 

Vette smiled back. 

Strange as it was, it seemed this Sith actually had more ways of doing business than Force Choking someone until they complied or died. Vette could work with this. 

“Well then, maybe things are looking up for me. As if they could get any worse.”

The acolyte gestured to Nash to open release her. 

Nash opened her cell. Vette stepped, standing for a moment to enjoy the sensation of being free from the damned cell that had been her home for the past four days.

Though she was hardly free. 

Still, it was progress.

“Lead the way. I’ll show you the unlocking points throughout the tomb, and then open the secret door for you.”

The acolyte nodded farewell to Nash, who returned the gesture and went back to work. The Pureblood then made his way to the door, Vette following right behind him.

“So…uh, what do I call you?”, she queried.

The man glanced down at her, an eye ridge arching.

“It’s just, never really worked with a Sith. So, my Lord, or Sir, or great and terrifying. What’s your handle?”

The Sith, still not breaking his stride, turned his gaze from Vette. A few seconds passed, and he spoke.

“Karn. You may call me Karn.”

“First name basis, huh? Okay then, name’s Vette.”

The Sith halted, Vette stopping to far behind him.

Had she said something wrong?

The man turned to face her and reached out a hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Vette.”

Vette, hesitant, returned the gesture and shook the Sith-Karn’s hand.

The Korriban job was all kinds of strange. But this. This was something else. 

Vette wasn’t sure if her fortunes had improved or worsened with the addition of this Sith, but Vette was never one to let something as trivial as danger deter her.

There was something strange about this Sith. And while she wasn’t free, he might just be what she needs to get off this rock.

Hey, I just shook hands with a Sith, anything’s possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not sure how consistent in terms of chronological order I'm going to keep this. Starting from here, I'm going to try and keep it consistent, but if I think back of something I'd like to but in, I'll make a point of saying the events in said chapter happened at a different time.
> 
> Anyway, hope you had fun. Next Chapter is going to focus on Vette and Karn's partnership beginning.


	3. Start of Something Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having finished their tomb raid on Korriban, Vette asks Karn to remove her shock collar. Upon doing so, she finds herself presented with an unusual offer. One she's inclined to accept.

This day was certainly shaping up to be an interesting one for Vette. Even by the standards of the thrill-seeking tomb raider, the events of the past few hours were insane.

After helping the, now former acolyte, Karn, Vette joined him on the transport _Black Talon._ Before they even had a chance to kick their feet up after a long day of nearly getting killed in a dark tomb by tuk’ata, Force spirits and one seriously angry rival acolyte, a Moff contacted them and asked “requested” they commandeer the transport to take on a karking corvette, the _Brentaal Star._

As strange as it sounded, Vette was happy to do some honest pirating after spending weeks cooped up in a Sith slave pen. She even had a pair of blasters again.

But by far, the strangest part about this day, was _him._

Vette was currently using the bed in their living quarters as a makeshift workbench as she made some modifications to her blaster pistols. She occasionally glanced over to the mountain of a man, who had been calmly meditating in the corner since their little detour concluded.

Vette thought the Pureblood was strange when he was being polite on Korriban, even thanking her for helping him find the lightsaber. His actions during the raid on the _Brentaal Star,_ had raised him from strange to downright bizarre in the thief’s opinion.

Not that she was expecting a Sith to be normal. What she’d been expecting was some cackling little sadist who talked like a villain in a child’s holovison shows.

What she hadn’t counted on was his restraint. He was an enigma. When he was in combat, he was a beast, shredding his enemies into ribbons with his lightsabers and crushing them into pulp with that Force grip of his.

Outside of battle however, he was not the simple brute he appeared to be.

Oh, he liked killing. He’d made that **very** clear.

Mindless slaughter on the other hand, not so much.

When he and Vette had been tasked with overthrowing the captain, he only wounded the troops and told her to set her blasters to stun. Apparently, he didn’t see fit to kill soldiers on his side just for following orders. He even spared the captain, after he’d been given permission to “deal with him” by the Moff’s creepy droid.

_Brutal, but not a thug._

Vette had been pleasantly surprised by her new “owner.” For a Sith, he was surprisingly good company. He even cracked a joke or two, much to her delight.

Though “not being a complete psychopath” didn’t mean he was necessarily a good person. This made Vette’s current train of thought risky, even for her track record.

He’d already trusted her enough to give her blasters, or at the very least didn’t consider her a threat even with weapons. So, she could take solace that he saw her as an investment and didn’t plan on killing just yet.

Asking him to remove her collar would be a different matter entirely. It was his insurance. His means of keeping her in line. If she could get her collar off, she could start working on an escape plan.

Maybe not right now. She wasn’t stupid enough to try making a run for it on Imp Central on Drommund Kaas. But it would be a good start.

Everything depended on her phrasing. She had to word her request in a manner that didn’t provoke another painful surge of electricity into her neck.

She placed her pistols back in their holsters. Turning her attention to the still meditating Sith, she took a deep breath and steeled herself to see how far she could push her luck.

“Speak.”

Whatever Vette was going to say died with the unexpected request from Karn.

“Uh, what?”

“You’ve been sitting there for the past hour wondering if you should ask me something. So, ask me.”

“Wait, how did you know tha-“, Vette didn’t finish the sentence, embarrassed that she somehow managed to forget she had been sitting in a room with someone who can read minds.

Karn smirked at Vette’s flustering.

“Alright then, Mr I-Can-Read-Minds, why don’t you tell me what I was going to ask, if you’re so good at this?”

“One, I can sense emotions and discern intent, I can’t read with absolute certainty what someone is thinking. Two, I asked you first.”

Thought it was a fair point, Vette found herself enjoying the conversation and decided to press on.

“Ah, c’mon, I thought Sith didn’t back down from a challenge. Go on, put those creepy hatred powers to use and guess.”

Karn opened his eyes and rose from his meditative position, leaning against the wall.

“Hmmm, alright. You’ve been thinking. Thinking about…me. You are confused.”

Vette folded her legs, enjoying the Sith mind reading game she’d unintentionally started.

“Good start, keep going.”

“You believe I am strange. You are wondering what my reaction will be to an inquiry about an object. A tool. Something in this room…ah. I’ve got it.”

_Oh kark. Maybe I should have just asked._

Karn had a confident look on his face. Had he figured it out? Maybe he found the idea so laughable he’d just shoot it down there and then, and she could go the rest of this trip without an electric shock.

“You want to know why my lightsabers are made of wood.”

Vette chuckled, both at the fact that’d she’d been worrying over nothing and that she’d been so caught up in the sheer madness of this day, she had completely ignored that other factor that made her Sith strange.

Since leaving the academy, the two of them had gotten some decent gear. She ditched the slave rags for a simple but efficient slicer’s outfit, as well acquiring her new blasters.

The Pureblood had discarded his acolyte uniform for a set of proper Sith Warrior armour, complete with a black robe and a helmet with an aurodium finish to it.

Then there were his lightsabers.

Were most hilts were made of metal, he had chosen wood.

Wood.

_Why is he so weird?_

Said Sith was frowning, waiting for his travelling companion to come down from her fit of giggles.

“Well?”

Vette composed herself and met the Sith’s gaze once more.

“N-no, it wasn’t that. But, now that we’ve brought it up, telling me why?”

Karn gave a nod and unclipped on of his lightsabers from his belt.

“It’s wood from the Bryalrk tree. It’s the only bark comparable in strength to steel.”

“I mean, that’s pretty neat and all, but why choose that? Your helmet doesn’t exactly suggest your against being flashy.”

“True,” Karn agreed, stepping a little closer, leaning down to give Vette a closer examination of the weapon.

“I’ll not lie and pretend I am a humble man. Still, it holds…well, let’s call it sentimental value.”

“Huh”, Vette said, leaning in closer to look at the hilt. “Never knew Sith were sentimental.”

She reached out her hand, before stopping just an inch away from touching the casing. She looked to Karn, who gave a nod, permitting her to touch it.

“When I was a boy, I always dreamt of becoming a Sith Lord. I’d run out into the jungles of Drommund Kaas with two sticks and pretend I was a warrior, like my father. My mother called me the “Bark Lord of the Sith.”

“Ha! A Sith who likes puns?”

“My mother’s Imperial, not a Sith. But, yes, she liked puns.”

“When I came of age and was called to the academy, my mother provided me with bark from the Brylark tree when it came time to construct my own lightsabers. I think she still wanted me to be that little boy playing with wooden swords. And, honestly, I found the idea too amusing to not follow up on.”

Vette found herself smiling at the fondness Karn’s tone carried.

It was so strange to picture it in her head.

A small Sith child, playing at something as innocent as using sticks as swords. And having a mother who liked to encourage his behaviour with playful humour.

A small pang of sadness hit her heart.

_I wish I could’ve played games when I was a girl. I wish mother had been allowed to be happy._

No, now was not the time for this. She pushed those feelings back down.

Not swiftly enough it seems, as Karn had noticed her sudden shift in mood.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry”, Vette assured, putting on a half-hearted smile.

Karn looked as if he was about to ask, put decided against it.

He stood back up and clipped his lightsaber back to his belt.

“My childhood memories aside, I still lost.”

“Lost?”

“Your little game. What is it you wanted to ask?”

Vette mentally facepalmed at forgetting the very reason this all started in the first place.

_Right, he’s in as good a mood as he’s gonna get, here goes nothing._

“Sooooooo, hey. I been thinking. Maybe you wanna take this shock collar off? Y’know, as a sign of thanks, for my hard work on Korriban. Not that I don’t enjoy the perpetual fear of electrocution.”

Karn folded his arms, looking at Vette. His expression provoked neither fear nor relief, as he seemed to consider her suggestion.

After a brief moment of silence passed, he unfolded his arms and spoke.

“You have earned it Vette. Remember, it is not freedom though.”

_Wow. Yes!_

Vette inwardly cheered that, after so many weeks of relentless torture, her poor neck would finally be free of this awful collar.

Reaching out with his right hand, Karn used the Force to unlock the collar, the distasteful thing falling to the ground with a clang.

_Finally._

Vette rubbed the back of her neck, hissing at the sting from the still fresh scarring. Still, now she could apply some kolto to clear the worst of it up.

She tilted her head, loving the cracking sound of her stiff neck loosening.

Looking back to Karn, she offered a smile. Not one of her cocky, “Never Say Die”, smiles he’d seen from her all die, but one of genuine gratitude.

“Don’t worry, I won’t give you a reason to slap that thing back on.”

Karn shrugged. “You have little to worry about. Neither the collar, nor your slavery were my idea to begin with.”

“I hear you. Just another day in the Empire, huh?”

Vette couldn’t blame Karn for her predicament. Sure, he was a Sith and was pretty much a head honcho in the Empire’s messed up hierarchy but it’s not like he was to blame for every bad thing that went on.

Hell, at least he did this much for her.

“Well, I’m not imprisoned, or collared, and it’s sort of miserable weather so…”

“We’re in space. How can the weather be miserable?”

“It’s cold and dark?”

Karn let out a heavy sigh, but he grinned all the same.

“So, I guess we should…uh…what happens now?”

Vette had hoped she’d be free of the collar, but she had not thought of what she’d do in the space between her release and her eventual escape attempt.

Karn said she wasn’t free, which was true. But not having a collar was a step in the right direction. So, she was not quite a slave, but not quite free.

“Now, we try something different.”

“Different, how exactly? It’s not like we can swap places. Wait, can we swap places? I want my Sith name to be Darth Chirppy.”

“Nothing quite so droll. I was thinking, you and me, together. Taking down the galaxy. Interested?”

… _Okay seriously, what **IS** today?_

Vette was visibly taken aback by the bluntness of his offer.

“I’m sorry, “Taking down the galaxy?” Together?”

“Yes. You’ve proven to be an able partner and I’d like to keep you by my side a little longer.”

“Pfft, partner? Not that I don’t appreciate you getting that nightmare necklace off me, but we never really had a partnership, so much as in I’ve had to follow you around or ZAP!”

“And that changes now”, Karn casually stated.

Vette stood up from the bed, rubbing her forehead as she paced back and forth.

“Okay, let’s just say, and I haven’t said yes by the way, that I take you up on this offer. How exactly does this “Partnership” play out?”

“Simple enough. I will be given assignments from my master. You in turn will help me carry out those assignments.”

“I’m not a Sith! I can handle myself in a fight, but your boss is gonna want you killing Jedi and other Sith by the bucket load.”

“Oh, trust me, I am _more_ than happy to handle most of the fighting. Especially if it involves Jedi. But you’ve proven yourself resourceful and cunning, and have an impressive knowledge of slicing, explosives and infiltration. Not to mention, you’re a decent shot with those blasters.”

Vette continued to stare at Karn with a curious expression.

“Flattery aside, shouldn’t all of that make you worried about having an uncollared ex-slave following you around? With blasters and explosives, I might add.”

“It would, if it wasn’t for Korriban.”

“Why’s that?”

“You were the only person on that world that didn’t try to kill me. And you could have run off when Vemrin and I were fighting. Instead, you warned me he was behind me and fought with me.”

_Huh. I did do that._

Still it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice, he was her only was of getting off Korriban alive. And even if she ran, that shock collar would have stopped her in her tracks.

Except that wasn’t strictly speaking true. Karn wasn’t her only means of getting off world. She’d stowed away in ships far more difficult than some Imperial transports. And as for the collar, she could have made a run for it while Karn and Vemrin fought. The shocks hurt, but she wagered that thing’s range only extended so far and if given a decent lockpick, she’d have had it off on her own. Maybe not soon, but she could’ve worked on it while she smuggled herself aboard a ship.

So why did she stay with Karn instead?

“And you trust me after one encounter in the span of six hours?”

“Trust your competency, absolutely. Your loyalty, of debatable, but nothing to concern myself with.”

“Why the lack of concern?”

“I doubt you’d betray me to another Sith. You don’t seem to be too fond being around them and I doubt they’d make a deal with an alien in good faith.”

“True, but what if I just decide to kill you?”

Karn started laughing heartily, much to Vette’s chagrin.

“Hey! I might not be a seven-foot-tall laser sword swinging maniac, but I’m not soft.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But if you’re best day and my worst were the same day; I’d still come out on top.”

“Alright, we’ve ruled out betrayal and assassination. What’s to stop me just going to the nearest space port when your back is turned and ditching you?”

“Not a damned thing.”

Vette had given up trying to figure out where this madman was going with this.

“If you want to leave, you can. I will not pursue you if do. The simple fact is, you’ve demonstrated you work better when you aren’t forced to comply. If I kept you as a slave, you’d find some way to escape or undermine me. I don’t need the Force to sense your defiant streak. Jailer Nash’s charming assessment made it perfectly clear.”

Vette groaned just thinking about the repulsive jailer.

“So, here’s what I’m proposing. You help me carry out my missions, in return for your “relative” freedom and shielding you from Imperial that would trouble. Any profit we make, we split it, like partners. Then, should you decide you’ve tired of our arrangements, we’ll part ways.”

The Twi’lek thief thought she should pinch herself, just to make sure this wasn’t a dream.

On paper, at all seemed to work out. She didn’t know where the old gang was, so she really didn’t have anywhere to go right now. Nowhere safe anyway. Having a tall and scary Sith to ward off threat sure sounded like it had its advantages.

Plus, there was the possibility of profits. She didn’t know how much Sith Lords got paid, but if he was willing to split it, it could mean the start of her building up enough to actual have a life where she didn’t have to scrape by, just to make a living.

_Maybe…Maybe I could even find Tivva and mother._

Ultimately, Vette found herself in a position with nothing to lose and everything to gain.

“You’ve, certainly thought this out.”

“I choose my partners carefully. That and, this morning an old woman told me I’d meet someone who could help me if I covered the skulls of failed students in shyrack blood.”

“Very funny.”

“I wasn’t joking”, Karn said with absolute seriousness.

Vette’s eyes widened in response. Then again, it was a Sith academy, so this was probably normal for them.

“You are so weird, y’know that?”

“I’d never have settled for being ordinary. I doubt you would either, partner.”

Vette grinned slyly at the Sith, stretching out her hand.

“Alright, deal. I’ll help you with slicing, infiltrating and general shooting of people trying to kill you. In return, you make sure I don’t end up in the slave pens while I’m with you.”

“Agreed.”

The door to their room opened to reveal a young woman with a tray and two glasses.

“Pardon me for the intrusion my lord. Compliments of the captain”, she said, passing Karn the tray. She nodded and promptly left the two in piece.

“Our first profit of a successful partnership”, Karn declared.

“Sweet. Looks like Captain Orzik sent us some of the good stuff for the whole, not killing him, thing.”

“Well then, here’s to the future, partner”, Karn said, raising his glass of ale.

“Vette clinked her glass with his and gulped the liquor down.

“Me and my buddy the Sith. Nobody’s gonna pick on me at school.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, the odd partnership of a Sith lord and a snarky thief was born. 
> 
> Just wanted to add, that little line about Vette saying it's miserable weather is a nod to the fact that, no matter where you are when you take the collar off, she says it's miserable weather. Even in karking space.
> 
> Also, Karn's helmet is meant to look something like this awesome costume: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/434667801516205115/


End file.
